[ Parallel occurrence : The day after but at the Blackmoon pack ]
The sun climbed lazily across the sky, spilling gold over the dew drenched earth like honey. It was one of those mornings where the air felt soft…lightly kissed by wind, warmed by light, scented with wet bark and crushed clover.
The first light of dawn crept through the thin curtains, painting the room in soft gold. Lyla stirred, her body aching as if she had been trampled by a herd of wild horses.
Every muscle protested as she shifted, her limbs heavy, her head throbbing dully. But as the sun's warmth touched her skin, something inside her unclenched…just a little.
She sat up slowly, wincing as her spine cracked. The sheets were tangled around her legs, damp with sweat. She did not remember dreaming. She no longer dreamt actually.
And she did not remember much of last night at all. Just fragments…the blur of trees, the water in her lungs…the sting of a slap, the bitter taste of something forced down her throat.
